


Play the Game

by sockitysock



Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: Desperation Play, Enthusiastic Consent, Exhibitionism, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Past Corvo/Jessamine, Voyeurism, Watersports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-14 15:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sockitysock/pseuds/sockitysock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started as a dare, really it did.  Something to giggle over, when they were young and stupid.  And then, over time, it got... it got to be a little more than that.  Well.  A lot more, actually.</p><p>Corvo isn't sure why, but he sure as hell knows what and how.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jessamine

**Author's Note:**

> This is piss play with a very light smattering of background plot. If that isn't your thing, the back button's right there. For the rest of us, enjoy the ride.

It had started as a dare. A lot of things did, back when he and Jessamine were both young and a little stupid, though they never did anything overtly dangerous. But occasionally they would get bored, and sick of lessons, and Jessamine would give him this sly little smirk and say, “I bet you can’t....”

Sometimes they were pointless little things. “I bet you can’t steal an apple from the kitchen,” when they both knew that it’d be given to them if they just asked. “I bet you can’t climb that tree,” when she knew Corvo could climb to the top of the Tower if need be.

Sometimes they were more fun, though. “I bet we can’t take that noblewoman’s fan without her noticing.” Jessamine had distracted her, and Corvo had gently plucked it away without a word. “I bet I can’t ride around on your shoulders all day without someone saying something.” No one had, although Jessamine’s mother had raised her eyebrows and said that she would be feeding the chairs at dinner, and not necessarily the number of people in them.

This time it was, “I bet you can’t piss outside without anyone knowing it was you.”

Corvo groaned in exasperation. “Aw, come on. That’s so much easier for you! You’ve got skirts on!”

“And?” Jessamine asked imperiously. She was still growing into her ‘Empress voice’, as she called it, but she was getting there. “The bet isn’t that I can do it, it’s whether or not _you_ can.”

Corvo grumbled a bit, but they both knew he couldn’t turn down a dare from her, and so for the rest of the hour he gulped water while they finished their mathematics work.

He cheated, really, when it came time for him to do it. He waited until after dusk, and when he nudged Jessamine discreetly, she declared that she’d like to take a walk alone, thank you, and everyone took it for granted that her Protector-in-training would accompany her.

“Are you going to do it?” Jessamine whispered, excitement at the risk of getting caught lighting up her eyes.

Corvo scowled, but he was smiling with the same anticipation underneath it. “Of course I am, I’ve been holding it all day. Why do you think I’ve been drinking so much water?” He was rewarded with a grin as they passed under an archway into a mostly-deserted garden, only a few servants tending to the flowers at the far end.

Jessamine looked around, scouting for windows. Corvo could have told her that there were three that could see them clearly and another six that it would be difficult but possible to see them out of, and that no one was at them because everyone was downstairs at the dinner party.

“What about them?” he asked in an undertone; but the servants were leaving, clearly picking up on some unspoken signal that Jessamine would like to be alone.

“Do it now, no one’s around!” Jessamine stage-whispered, and gestured for him to step close to the bushes so that she could partially hide him with her skirt, pretending to be admiring the flowers.

Corvo took a deep breath and unbuttoned, taking himself in hand; this was breaking about three million codes of decorum, not the least of which was exposing himself indecently to his Empress-to-be, et cetera, blah blah blah.

“Well?” Jessamine asked. “Are you just going to stand there or what?” She wasn’t looking at Corvo, in the interests of politeness, but he could tell she desperately wanted to see his face.

“I, uh.” Corvo blushed. “This is too weird. You’re standing right there, anyone could see us.”

“Aw, come on,” she muttered. “I thought you said you’d been holding it all day. Don’t you just want to pee?”

Actually, he did. As Jessamine talked, he felt the need for relief grow steadily more urgent.

“All that water, collecting in you. How many glasses did you have? I wasn’t counting. I wish I had been.... Drink after drink... drip... drip... until you just have to let it all flow out of you in this great gush of....”

Corvo finally let go, closing his eyes and sighing at the release of pressure in his bladder. The sound of the stream hitting the leaves and ground made him open his eyes again, to make sure that they weren’t about to get caught.

Jessamine stared at him as he pissed, hand covering her mouth to hide her grin. “Outsider’s eyes, you’re actually doing it,” she said, half-disbelieving.

Corvo shrugged lopsidedly. “Well, you went to all that trouble... how could I not?”

Jessamine couldn’t control her giggles, and said in between them. “We’re going to be in so much trouble if we get caught. I can’t believe I’m having a conversation with you while you’re standing there....” She gestured. “Doing that!”

“I believe those in the lower class call it ‘pissing’,” Corvo said primly as he finished. He shook himself dry and buttoned up his pants, dusting off his hands of imaginary dirt. Then he gave Jessamine a devious grin that had her swallowing her giggles.

“What?”

Corvo put his hands in his pockets, looking smug. “Now it’s your turn.”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Over the next several years, as they grew up, they made a regular game out of it. ‘Regular’ didn’t mean often; had they crept around the palace day after day trying to find strange places to relieve themselves, they would have gotten both caught and bored. Instead, every so often, sometimes as far apart as six months, and sometimes as close together as a week, one of them would catch the other’s eyes, and motion to an alcove, or a potted plant, or some other place, and they’d sneak off together at the next opportunity to piss there.

There were a few close calls, of course. Once a guest in the castle had decided for a midnight stroll as Jessamine was adding her contribution to the sewers through a grate in the marble floor; she’d had to stand there and make small talk, praying that the guest thought the sound was simply water rushing through the drain and that he wouldn’t find her underthings hidden in the empty vase nearby. Corvo nearly died laughing in a silent fit behind the nobleman’s back, and Jessamine subsequently paid him back in kind by pointing out a convenient vase in the main hallway two months later.

Once, just a tiny little bit, Corvo had gone in the fountain of cider at a party. They’d both drunk water and tried to stifle laughter every time their eyes met. Some time later, a nobleman had come to tell Jessamine how he loved the unique aftertaste of the cider, and didn’t understand in the least why she nearly turned purple in suppressed mirth.

Once they’d both pissed in the same place, at the same time; they were pranking some poor fool by filling his chamberpot with urine, so that when he got up in the middle of the night to use it, it would overflow as he filled it beyond capacity. They’d excused themselves from dinner early, but they only had a narrow slice of time before the guests began wandering back to their rooms, so Jessamine had hiked up her skirt and squatted on the back edge of the pot, and Corvo had knelt down in front of it so that it wouldn’t splash. Both of them kept their eyes firmly on some neutral place; in Jessamine’s case, the ceiling, and in Corvo’s, the wall behind the bed.

It was funny; despite his initial reluctance with the whole thing, that time it was Corvo who’d let go first, after their breath had time to ease from the race up the stairs, and they’d relaxed. Jessamine had nearly looked down in surprise at the sound; Corvo was usually less comfortable with pissing in unorthodox places, and so it took him a while to feel ready to relieve himself, while Jessamine had been raised knowing that she was virtually without reproof for strange but technically legal things, and therefore could simply hold her skirts out of the way and go.

Jessamine caught herself before she could see Corvo’s nether bits, but he had looked towards her at her intake of breath, and their gazes met. She huffed out a faintly embarrassed laugh, but he had just smiled and motioned for her to breath in and out, slowly.

She closed her eyes and did so, tipping her head back and letting her urine flow in a quiet stream into the pot. They both finished soon after that, and had carefully placed the chamberpot back under the bed. If the prank had worked, they never heard about it, but that hadn’t really ever been the point.

“Does it - ?” Jessamine had asked once, when they’d made it back to their suite after a mostly uneventful trip for Corvo to pee against the palace wall like a dog.

“Does what do what?” Corvo asked, lazily. It was, after all, late at night.

Jessamine bit her lip. “No, I - never mind. It’s silly.”

He’d rolled over on the floor where he was marking a map of the palace exterior with a little X. There were ten or twelve little X’s scattered around the map, and more on the map of the interior. Half the X’s were blue, and the other half black.

“I won’t laugh, I swear,” Corvo promised. “I want to hear it.”

“Does it ever - you know - feel - naughty? When we do this?”

“Considering it something we’re very much not supposed to be doing, it always has.”

“No, I mean-” Jessamine broke off with a shake of her head. “Do you ever get turned on?”

Corvo blinked, tilted his head to the side, and frowned faintly. “Why?”

She flushed. “I don’t know why, just that it’s taboo, and there’s someone right there, and it’s-”

“It excites you.”

Jessamine looked away, and nodded.

“And you want to know if it excites me.”

Another nod, smaller this time.

“I don’t know.”

This confession made Jessamine jerk her head up and stare at Corvo, who shrugged. “I never thought of it like that. I will next time, and find out, but right now I don’t know.”

Jessamine had walked carefully over to Corvo, crouched down, and kissed him soundly for saying that.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

He wasn’t sure whether Jessamine had grown out of the game, or simply found that she enjoyed other things more, but gradually the nudges and nighttime escapades tapered off, until suddenly Jessamine was Empress and had suitors, and Emily was born, and Corvo was Lord Protector and not quite sure when they’d both grown up.

Even though Jessamine no longer played the game with him, Corvo still found that he wanted to, and so whenever he thought he could get away with it, he’d undo his trousers and piss. After Jessamine’s confession, he’d been unable to think of it as a simple amusement; pissing anywhere but in his own chamberpot behind closed doors carried the weight of arousal with it, and more often than not he ended up relieving himself in more than one way.

Jessamine caught him at it, in the late hours of night, sitting in the middle of his bed with his chamberpot between his thighs. She was the only one he ever let sneak up on him like that. She’d just looked at him, and shut the door, and said, casually, “The Royal Spymaster - you know him?”

He was still hard, having wanted to come before pissing. He’d kept stroking himself idly; it was nothing Jessamine hadn’t seen before, and he knew that with all that was between them, she wouldn’t take it as anything more than simple pleasure. “Yes, of course. What about him?”

She leaned against the door, folding her arms. “Weaselly man. But he knows what he’s doing.”

“Are you trying to give me a secret and inexplicable lust for him as well?” Corvo asked dryly. Jessamine smirked at him.

“No, but given that you still...” Jessamine trailed off, searching for the right word. “Enjoy this, I thought I might give you a challenge.”

“Mmm.” Corvo shut his eyes and nodded. “Give me a moment, I need-” He broke off, the first lapse in composure that Jessamine had seen since she walked in.

She nodded as well, to herself rather than Corvo. “Are you nervous again? Did we leave this for too long?” She paused. “How much have you had to drink today?”

Corvo drew in a deep breath. “A great deal. More than usual.”

“I saw you at dinner. Three whole glasses?”

“Four... oh....”

“I bet you’re just bursting, aren’t you? You’re so hard and so full that it just _aches_ , and you just want relief any way you can get it.”

Corvo gasped and shuddered and quickened his pace, arching up so that he was nearly upright on his knees, then hunching over so that he wouldn’t soil his bed or clothing.

“Come on, Corvo.” Jessamine walked forward and crouched at the foot of the bed to face her Lord Protector. “Come on. You’re so gorgeous like this. You’re trying so hard to be neat - you did that on purpose, didn’t you? Set yourself up so that you’d need to have so much control to do it right, to not attract attention and gossip from the maids?”

“Yes,” Corvo bit out. His voice softened. “Yes... I hoped you would walk by and - please keep going.”

“Oh, Corvo. Oh, my loyal Protector. You can’t fight this. Your body’s trying to pull you in two different directions; you can’t find release with so much liquid in you, so urgent... I wonder if I could feel it against the skin of your belly? And you can’t let go of all that tension until you-”

Corvo came with a cry, slumping over as his semen dripped into the chamberpot, gritting his teeth and waiting. Jessamine’s hand reached out to touch his hair and wind her fingers through it as he shuddered, trapping the hard ceramic between his hips and the bed. “That’s good, Corvo. That’s good.” Her voice sounded almost distant, and Corvo dared not move for fear of falling apart.

“You’re waiting for me, aren’t you,” Jessamine murmured, and it wasn’t a question. “Go, Corvo. Let go. I’m safe. Let go.”

Corvo did, and shuddered in ecstasy as he felt the liquid draining out of him and into the pot. It felt like a second orgasm, and it went on and on, pulsing and rushing as he moaned and his world narrowed to the stream of urine and Jessamine’s fingers in his hair.

Carefully, he sat back up, knowing she’d want to see.

“You had a lot to drink,” she said, still in that same low tone.

“Yes... I thought you’d wander by.”

She snorted, eyes still locked on his now-limp cock. “I really can’t surprise you, can I? Not anymore.”

He sighed, unable to keep a small blissful smile off his face, and shifted so that they could both see him pissing as he shook his head. “Not really. I know that you like it when I talk while doing this.” He could feel his bladder getting emptier, but didn’t stop the stream or force it out, just let gravity do its work.

The slight catch of her breath told him that hadn’t changed. “I do,” she confirmed. 

They both fell silent as his stream slowed to a trickle, and then to a halt. Corvo waited a moment before shaking himself dry and stowing the chamberpot back under the bed. He’d put it back in the bathroom eventually. “What were you saying about the Royal Spymaster?”

His Empress smirked in a way that on almost anyone else would have rightfully been called ‘an evil grin’. “He has this balcony, you see.”

Corvo raised his eyebrows.

“There are a number of potted plants on it, you see.”

He started to match Jessamine’s grin.

“He does spend most of his time in his rooms, but there are, you see, some important policies I must discuss with him. Policies which unfortunately he has insisted only I know about.”

“... _Only_ you?”

“So you can see my predicament. I’ll have to be without my Lord Protector for around, oh, twenty minutes, I think. But I know that he can get into a lot of trouble when he’s bored. So I thought I’d give you a little project.”

“When would this be occurring, then?”

“Tomorrow, just after noon. I’ll walk with you to Burrows’ rooms, then dismiss you from there like he wants me to. I want you to go ‘water’ his plants, and if you like, leave a little message for him.” She held up a finger at his drawn breath. “Nothing too crude. Something subtle. He’s the Spymaster. Think of it as a test.”

Corvo simply grinned at her as she swept from the room.

The next day, Hiram Burrows’ plants all smelled faintly of ammonia, and the thin, clear filament he kept on his chest of belongings had been broken and replaced with a single dark hair.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

My dearest Jessamine,

I write in the hopes that this letter finds you and Emily well. I am rediscovering the meaning of the word ‘seasick’ here on the _Medallion_ as we make our way to Morley. We have sighted a small vessel heading towards Dunwall; as we are fairly sure that we will not find another for a great while, I write this letter in haste so that it may be ready for delivery.

Do not worry about my well-being; I am missing you greatly but otherwise am well. Ah - forgive the scribbling - my friends on the _Medallion_ have informed me enthusiastically of their admiration for you, and wish that I pass along their greetings and well-wishes.

The search for a cure is... not progressing as well as we might have hoped. But I am optimistic that when I return, it shall be with our salvation.

I remain  
yours truly,  
Corvo Attano  
Lord Protector

PS: I pissed off the aft of the boat late last night. One of the mates caught me; when I fumbled to stop and hide what I was doing, he clapped me on the shoulder, expressed his understanding of the consequences of too much grog, and relieved his own bladder beside me. Perhaps I should have expected my arousal at the action, but either way, he was still quite drunk, and did not notice my reason for removing myself hastily to my cabin. Thank the Strictures for small mercies!


	2. The Serkonan Man

Of the four isles, Corvo made his apologies to Gristol and saw Serkonos as the best. Not because he had been born there, although that was true; he had been brought up largely in Dunwall at any rate, and was in fact forced to rely on the translator for most of the trip.

No, the beautiful thing about Serkonos was the vastly casual attitude, outside of the influence of the Order, towards whatever got a person hot under the collar. Most of the shipmates stuck to the ship, and most of the diplomats stuck to the Order’s offices and convent, but Corvo was free to wander the streets of Karnaca, away from the eyes of the wealthy Imperial elite, and it seemed to him that on every other street corner was someone willing to let him stare as they pissed in a puddle or on the corner of a building, and a few even gestured for him to return the favor.

Corvo became acquainted with one fellow who, like him, enjoyed watching and being watched. They didn’t speak a word of each other’s language, as any Serkonan he might have known bore little resemblance to the man’s local dialect, and speaking in the Imperial tongue was apparently not a skill the man put much stock in.

They both spoke the common language of the body, though, and after a week had passed, Corvo knew that if he went looking for the man, he would find him, and help with whatever the man was doing until he was beckoned away to some semi-secluded area. The thought crossed his mind that this might be some form of prostitution, work for sexual pleasure, but it made them both happy so Corvo honestly didn’t really care.

The man introduced him to a few more games; since more often than not they were by the ocean, and they didn’t ruin anything useful, no one paid any mind where they relieved themselves, not the way they would have in Gristol, and especially in Dunwall. So instead they held contests between themselves: how high could they send the arc of their piss, how far, how long could they keep the stream going. Corvo lost most of them, but he won the latter, probably because of Jessamine.

On the last day of their stay at Serkonos, Corvo went looking for the man earlier than usual. It took some time to explain that he would be leaving at dawn the following day, but when he was understood, the man nodded and put a hand to his chin in thought. Then he grabbed a large jug and filled it with water, beckoning Corvo away from the ocean, up to a series of short hills.

Walking behind the man, Corvo could see how the hills formed a natural depression in the center of them, and how they were hidden from the village by the roll of the earth. There was a moderately large tree nearby, and the man strode over to it, and leaned against it for balance as he began to shuck off his clothing.

Corvo took a step back in alarm. He wasn’t sure whether he would enjoy having sex with another man, and also wasn’t entirely sure how it would work, but he knew that he didn’t really want to find out right this minute.

The man seemed to understanding his concern, and waved him forward again, shaking his head and laughing. He motioned for Corvo to wait, and after two weeks, Corvo mostly trusted him to know what he was doing. It didn’t take long for the man to stand completely naked in front of Corvo, his clothing folded in a fork of one of the branches. Then he gestured at Corvo to do the same.

Corvo did as he was told, still feeling as though this was all slightly surreal. Nonetheless, when Corvo’s clothing was safely away, the man gestured to his own jutting erection, then at Corvo’s cock. Corvo looked at him blankly, not sure what was going on, never mind what the man wanted. After a few more false starts, the man sighed in exasperation, walked up to Corvo, grabbed Corvo’s cock, and pointed it at his own while pressing on Corvo’s lower belly.

Oh.

He wanted Corvo to -

_Oh_.

Corvo spent a few moments gaping at him, then shut his mouth and got his brain working again. Damn, but he wanted that. Why did he keep getting surprised by these realizations? Couldn’t they happen when he had a few hours to mull them over?

Of course not. Corvo looked at the man holding his cock and realized that he had nothing to lose here. He would be gone by morning. There was little to no chance of anyone from Dunwall finding out about this. And his clothes were within his line of sight, which meant no one was going to steal them.

He huffed out a small laugh, locked eyes with the man, and let urine spill out of his cock.

The effect was immediate. The man let out a groan of pleasure and took his hands off Corvo’s lower half to grab at his shoulders for support. Corvo saw his knees buckle, and thought he would fall, so he pulled him closer. Their hips clashed and then slid together, so that the man was bucking against Corvo as the latter pissed.

The friction was wonderful, and Corvo began to get hard even as his bladder kept emptying. He was caught between the relaxation he needed to keep going and the wired tension that was so temptingly delicious.

He shoved his hips forward once, a little clumsily, almost accidentally; the man shouted, uninhibited, and Corvo felt a splatter against his legs that was partially washed away by the slowing stream. When Corvo stopped, emptied of liquid, the man hummed and pulled away, assuming his Imperial friend wouldn’t necessarily want the reverse to happen to him. Corvo didn’t quite know the answer to that question, and so let him go, already fully hard.

He was offered the jug, and took it, draining a fair amount of water from it. After catching his breath, the man made to relieve himself so that Corvo could watch, but at the last moment Corvo gestured for him to wait. The man obliged him, and Corvo positioned himself behind him so that he was holding the other’s cock in his hand and had most of the man’s weight braced on one hip, erection pressed into pliable skin. The man looked behind him, then closed his eyes and relaxed with a soft sigh.

The feeling of holding another’s length while he pissed was a strange one. Not unwelcome in the least, but strange. Corvo ran his hand lightly up and down, exploring, and the man chuckled as if to say, “Not quite yet.”

Corvo hummed in apology and kept his hand still after that. The man pressed back against Corvo, a simple shift in stance that had Corvo drawing in a startled breath and surging forward. They worked out a steady rhythm that satisfied both of them, and it was fine. It would have taken Corvo another minute or two to come, but he looked down and was suddenly blindsided by the simple thought: _he’s pissing, still, between you and your hand,_ and he was swept into orgasm just as suddenly on a rush of lust.

When he could, he looked down ruefully at the mess they’d made of their lower bodies. The man was quick to point out a small pool of still water, which they used to clean up.

Corvo laid on his back beside the pool, staring over at the tree and thinking. How much would he miss this when he returned to Dunwall? Was this something he should have left dormant, content to play the silly game with Jessamine and never quite acknowledging that it was the piss itself that he found exciting, and not simply the taboo aspect of it?

He didn’t know. What he did know was that they had at least half a jug of water left, and between the two of them, him and this man whose name he would never know, they could be quite creative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I don't think any of the following chapters will be as long as the first one, simply because of the "we're going to focus on this character now!" format I decided to go with. This does, however, mean that they'll go up a little quicker.)


	3. The Watchmen

It was after he met the Loyalists that Corvo realized his piss kink was still alive and kicking. Piero had excused himself from the workshop to use the bathroom; Corvo had followed him some moments later with a question, assuming he could catch Piero in the hallway.

What he found instead was that Piero had known the floor was deserted - the others were either downstairs or out of the building - and that Corvo was the only one of them who didn’t make enough noise going up the stairs to alert him.

The inventor had thus not bothered to kick closed the door while he pissed, and Corvo took one look before fleeing, cheeks red and pulse suddenly racing.

Now that he knew it was still there, though, Corvo knew what to avoid to make life less potentially awkward. He also started making noise like a normal person, so that people would know he was walking towards them, which, aside from preventing mishaps, also made everyone else much happier with him.

Of course, this approach didn’t really work when he was supposed to specifically _not_ be noticed. The first time an Overseer relieved himself near Corvo, the newly-dubbed assassin had been perched on top of the lamppost that had been converted to a makeshift toilet. Silently, he begged the Overseer desperately to move on and not look up, and he ended up needing to Blink away to the nearby darkened rooftop to take care of a certain distraction.

Still, he could keep a careful eye on the unaware guards below, and find an alternate route when one looked like he was going to.... Corvo shook his head as he realized that would never work. Force of justice he might be, but he’d never have the fortitude to actively ignore the thing that turned him on the most.

He’d just have to deal with it. Luckily, it didn’t seem to happen too often, though more than once Corvo questioned the sanity of getting aroused when his non-euphemistic sword still had blood on it. But eh, he seemed fine otherwise, and he got the job done. That was what mattered.

Slowly, though, Corvo was starting to think there might be a citywide conspiracy to get him to orgasm in public or something. The Overseers and the City Watchmen somehow always managed to find the corner he was crouched behind, or the vase right below him, or the sewer grate directly in his line of sight, when they needed to piss. And they weren’t discreet about it - they’d widen their stance, lean back, give a little sigh, and send a stream arcing over to splash two or three feet in front of them. It was as though they’d all learned, and gotten good at, the games that Corvo had played with the Serkonan man.

He wondered at the state of the city now, that something which six months ago would have been hidden in the deep corners and alleyways of the streets was now practiced with impunity under the glare of the floodlights.

And now he was creeping along the exposed air duct that ran between two buildings. There were two Watchmen on the roof of the other one, but as there was a seven- or eight-foot drop down to it, Corvo simply had to wait where he was for their backs to be turned. While he did so, he was treated to their small talk, which, apart from being an excellent indicator of the state of affairs and occasionally relevant information, was also incredibly boring. Corvo couldn’t care less about the soap opera that these two guys apparently lived in, and shifted his weight impatiently, almost ready to just sleep-dart them and be done with it.

Finally, he heard, “Come on, it’s our turn to patrol the eastern side.”

“Where’s the ones who’re supposed to be taking over for us, then?”

“I dunno. Look, it’s not like anything’s going on. It’ll be fine.”

 _So says you,_ Corvo thought dryly, and got ready to leap down.

He was brought up short by the second guard saying, “We can wait for a minute, then. I gotta piss.”

_I have the worst luck in the world._

“Such refinement,” the first one said sarcastically. Corvo sat back on his heels in frustration. At least he could be assured that the other patrol wouldn’t show up anytime soon - they were both snoring in an empty room some ways back. He heard the sound of a buckle being undone, and then silence.

“What?” the first Watchman said after a few beats. “You said you had to go; go.”

“Well, I can’t very well do it with you staring at me, can I? Turn around.”

“No. If you really have to piss with me standing next to you, you can piss with me staring at you, too.”

“Chaffer.”

Either the first one didn’t have an answer to that, or they were having some kind of staring contest. Corvo inched forward to risk a peek, and saw that the second Watchman was standing stiffly, aiming himself with one gloved hand, while the first, true to his word, was staring at him, waiting.

Corvo eased back, but miscalculated slightly, knocking his hand against the metal. It made a quiet, dull noise that both Watchmen immediately hearkened at. Corvo froze, automatically holding his breath.

“What was that?” the second one asked.

“Rat or something, stuck in the vent. It’s gone now.”

“Sounded too big to be a rat. Maybe it’s the other patrol?”

“Nah. If it were the other patrol, they’d show themselves.”

“But if it were an assassin, he wouldn’t bother with us. We’d just be dead before we knew what had happened.”

“How comforting. Oh... I bet I know....”

“Right.... If it’s not one of ours, and it’s not who were guarding against....”

“I think we have a pervert hiding out.”

They laughed, and the second Watchman called up, just loud enough for Corvo - or rather, the unobservant person in Corvo’s place - to hear. “Hey, did you come down here to watch me piss? There are easier ways of getting a look at cock, you know!”

“Maybe it’s not your cock he wants a good view of,” the first Watchman said, and then whispered something that Corvo didn’t catch.

There was a brief pause, and then the second guard said, “You are a sick, sick man.” He laughed. “With our luck, you’re probably right.” More whispering. “Yeah, like hell. You do it, then.”

“You’re the one who has to piss,” the first one pointed out. “And besides, if they didn’t want to see they’d either show themselves or walk away. Either you’re giving someone a peep show, or there’s no one there.”

More silence. Corvo moved away from the air duct and risked another look. Neither of the two had moved, but the second Watchman was sizing up the first.

“It was you who decided you had to piss here,” the first one tried to say, but was cut off by the second’s hurried, “Fine, fine. But if you try to use this as blackmail, you’re going down with me.”

The first waved a hand. “I know. Come on, we don’t have all day.”

“It’s night,” the second guy said, but faced the wall anyway, backing up a few steps and bouncing a little to relax. Then he called up to Corvo again. “Hey, this is what you wanted to see, right? You want to come down here and get a better look?”

Like hell he did. After a couple seconds, the Watchman shrugged and sighed exaggeratedly as he let loose his bladder in a rush. After a little, though, the fake sigh turned into a real groan of relief. “Damn, I had to piss,” he said, voice thick with contentment.

“You really did,” the first officer murmured, but Corvo barely caught the words as he doubled over on his knees, fumbling with the clasp of his belt.

The second Watchman raised his voice again for Corvo’s benefit. “Oh, this feels great. I’ve been waiting to do this forever, and it’s...” He sighed again, then made a noise that might have been a hum.

“You’re terrible at this,” the first Watchman said. “You sound like one of the Golden Cat girls.”

“I thought you wanted me to. Isn’t that the point? Make it sound like sex?”

“Of course not. Sex sounds like sex, and you barely sound like sex anyway. This is filthy and base, act like it.”

The second guy gave an unconvincingly forced moan as he ran dry. Corvo wished he had shut up rather than try at it, since he was still hard and only halfway to finishing and it would be somehow infinitely more awkward to kneel in the shadows alone and pleasure himself than it was to do so in response to... whatever the hell this was.

The first Watchman wasn’t done talking, though. “Here. Poor guy is probably stuck up there between getting off and getting the hell away. I’ll show you how it’s supposed to be done.”

“You’re oddly sure there’s someone there. Maybe you need your head examined,” the second guy grumbled, but stepped back. Corvo watched as the first officer stood where his fellow had and unbuckled to aim.

It took him a moment to relax, but when he did, his eyes fell closed and his mouth opened in a low, breathless moan, head tilting back as he did. “Oh....”

Corvo bucked into his hand, trying desperately not to make a sound.

The sound of the first Watchman’s urine only went unbroken for a second or two. “What good is this? You’re not saying anything.”

“He’s watching,” the first man said.

“You can’t know that.”

“He is,” came the simple, charged reply, and the Watchman opened his eyes to look directly at Corvo. “He was watching you, too. He can’t look away. He wants to see how good this feels, how... mmm....” The Watchmen let his eyes fall half-shut again, looking drugged and almost boneless with relief and satisfaction.

Corvo bit the back of his glove as he came, shuddering and trying not to gasp. He curled on his side, out of sight of the lower roof, and stayed that way even after the guards moved away, getting his breath back. It was quite a few minutes before he was able to pick himself back up and continue.


End file.
